


He's Bound Away

by opalmatrix



Category: Alliance-Union - C. J. Cherryh
Genre: Adopted Children, Belonging, Coming of Age, Gen, Spaceships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26453437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/pseuds/opalmatrix
Summary: Jurgen Graff's journey to the Company War begins.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Fandom Giftbox 2020





	He's Bound Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sevenall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenall/gifts).



> You wanted our favorite person in all the wide Alliance-Union universe, and of course I am glad to deliver. I meant to do some shorter pieces, and I meant to do the other requested characters, but during my _Hellburner_ re-read, I got caught up in his origin story. During the testimony before the panel after the accident, he says he was born "on the sub-lighter _Gloriana_ ," but later he tells Captain Villy that his ship is the _Polly d'Or_. Out of that inconsistency grew this inadvertently long-ish tale.

_Polly d'Or_ arrived at Pell with a load of iron ore, some rare metals, recent news from the edges of Unionside, and a small stash of luxuries ranging from dance music recordings to genuine honey. "If anyone has questions about the honey," said Mormor Nora, veteran of a dozen port calls in doubtful circumstances, "Tell 'em, 'Nope, don't know where it's from, we didn't ask, just finished off our five jars before we hit jump.'"

The junior Petersons, all eight of them, were watching the ops screens from the downside lounge along with the adults who weren't on duty. They ranged from dark-eyed Linn, age 13, all the way up to Jake, who was expecting an actual post any day now at age 19. The exterior displays showed quite a number of other ships at dock: a dozen two-crew skimmers, a handful of local ore haulers, and at least three other long-haul merchanters: ops chatter indicated another couple of ships hidden on the opposite side of the station.

"What's that?" asked Jurgen.

Their approach and station rotation had just brought another vessel into view. It was larger than the _Polly d'Or_ , smaller than the mammoth _Dublin Again_ , which was prepping for jump, according to the board display in the #3 screen, But the strange ship's jump vanes were easily as large as Dublin's, and it looked even newer. 

" _ECS Victoria_." Iris had spotted the ship's name, crisp black letters on a pale background that stood out again the dark grey of the hull.

"Military," said Linn.

Ralf turned on her, frowning. "What do _you_ know, anyway, short stuff?"

"More than you," said Linn, her gruff little voice dark as she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She was obsessed with ships and kept detailed lists of every one she'd seen, what type they were, who owned them, when they were built.

"Well, don't keep us all in suspense, Linn," said Jurgen. Ralf could be a jerk.

Linn wriggled, half-turning her back on her cousin. "Earth Company was building two new ships for system defense. _Carina_ and _Victoria_. I heard it at Viking two years ago. Dunno why she's out here. though."

"We'll be out on the docks soon enough," said Jonna. "Bet everyone's going to be talking about it."

A more general discussion of what the cousins intended to do on station started up. Linn extracted herself and came over to sit next to Jurgen. "Military don't always tell everyone what they're up to," she said to him.

"I bet they don't," he agreed.

Linn's serious expression eased a little. She didn't really look like a Peterson, with her dark brown hair, tan complexion, and narrow, tilted brown eyes. In fact, she looked even less like a Peterson than he did. But her mama was _Polly d'Or_ 's Nav 1, Vita Peterson. Jurgen's mama was Marlis Graff, the medic, who had come from the sub-lighter _Gloriana_ , when Jurgen had been born. Still, the _Polly d'Or_ was all that Jurgen remembered: they'd left _Gloriana_ when he was two.

Linn curled up next to him and watched the approach. Her eyes were falling shut, and her thumb crept into her mouth. Jurgen pretended he didn't notice, locked her safety belt around her, and put an arm across her shoulders. Zainab came over and frowned at the thumb. "Linn—," she started to say.

Jurgen put a finger to his lips. Zainab rolled her eyes and sat down on his other side. "Leave schedules are out," she said. "I only got half. That's the bad side of still being the newbie."

"It's been, what, three years?"

"Almost. I'll be glad when Ralf qualifies."

"You're welcome to him. He's a bully."

"He knows that won't work on me," said Zainab. Short, compactly muscled, and very dark-skinned, she was another _Gloriana_ transplant: she'd come aboard with her mama Najma Kamis when the _Gloriana_ was turned down for retrofit to FTL and relegated to local ore hauling. An in-system ore-hauler didn't need nearly as large a crew as a long-haul sub-lighter, and many of the crew and their families had been taken in by other FTL merchanters who had arrived at Pell in the year that followed. _Polly d'Or_ , a small freighter, had only a few slots available: Marlis, capable of handling anything short of body-cavity surgery, and Najma, with her veteran knowledge of sanitation systems, were welcome along with their minor children. Zainab's father was redundant as an engineer: years later, they heard that he and his 12-year-old son Musa had gone out with a very small ship, the _Oma Star_.

The _Polly d'Or_ 's grapples locked to the station, impacts that sent vibrations and noise throughout the ship. Linn woke up with a start. "Whoa!"

"Just the grapples, sugar," said Zainab, patting the girl's knee. "We're good."

The all-clear sounded, and a buzz of relief and excitement rose in the lounge. The various Petersons unbelted and went off to bed or to duty stations, depending on their shift assignments. Young May-Brit, next in age to Linn, came over to collect her cousin. "Linn, come on, we're going shopping tomorrow!"

" _You're_ going shopping," Linn stated, her sleepy face cross. But she got up and followed May-Brit out of the big room.

"Zainab, Jurgen, you're off-shift, right?" said Najma, passing by on her way out.

"Yes, ma'am," said Jurgen.

"You two should go to bed. It's a big day tomorrow."

"Yes, Ma," said Zainab. "I didn't see _Gloriana_ at dock, did you?"

"No, love. I heard she's around the other size of the Belt. Disappointing, but what can you do?"

The answer was "nothing," of course.

The next day, the _Polly d'Or_ 's libertied crew was at the top of the ramp, waiting to be let out onto Pell's docks for four days of R&R. The juniors had arranged things among themselves: Jonna was going to shepherd Linn, May-Brit, and Fulk for the first two days, and Jurgen would take over at breakfast on the third day. 

"Better you than me," said Jake. He was the eldest of them, stocky, with fly-away light brown hair and grey eyes: a typical Peterson. He was also Jurgen's competition for the soon-to-be vacant Helm 4 post, when Kris stepped down. Jake had done his share of the kid-wrangling last station call.

"Like you're any fun on a station," said May-Brit. "Rushing me past the shops to follow some girl you think smiled at you."

"All you ever want to do is shop," said Fulk. "Pell has a super-ultra sim arcade."

"And the herbarium, and a new museum," said Linn. "There's even an event at the museum where you can talk to real Downers!"

"I earn my shopping time," said May-Brit, her head high. It was true: she would volunteer all sorts of extra work hours aboard ship so that she had plenty of spending money. "We saw the herbarium last time," she added.

"I was only ten!" said Linn. "I really want to see it again!"

Jurgen was debating stepping into the discussion before it became an argument when they were interrupted by Jes Peterson. "Jonna, Jurgen, and Jake, we need you back a day early. Iris, it's a big responsibility, but you'll need to watch the junior juniors on the last day."

Iris had the strangest expression on her face, equal parts annoyance and pride. Usually the senior juniors didn't pull this duty until they were 18. The three oldest looked at each other, all equally mystified. Jurgen blinked and took on the immediate problem, which was the shift in responsibilities. "Jonna, I'll take the first two days with the kids."

"Thanks, Jurg," she said. "Jes, sir, what's up?" Jes was Helm 2: whatever was going on had to be important.

"We may have a great opportunity for any of you, maybe even all of you. I want you all back here at 09:00 on day 4." His face was serious and a little worried, thought Jurgen.

"Copy, Uncle Jes," said Jake. 

Jes looked at the three of them again and nodded. "You're turning into real good folks; we're proud of you." 

They all watched him walk back into the ship. In the final moments before the opening whistle, Fulk whispered, "What was that? We all know you three are just about ready to get postings, but—?"

Jake shrugged. "We'll find out soon enough. C'mon, cousins, there's the whistle. It's Pell time!"

Early on the morning of the fourth day, Jurgen approached the _Polly d'Or_ with a slightly fuzzed head and an armload of shopping. He'd done his best to take it easy the night before, but it had really been his only leave on Pell because he'd been handling the junior juniors, and … well, that's just how it went for merchanters at dock.

"I saw you with that woman, Jurgen!" called Jake, behind him.

Jurgen turned around. He hoped he wasn't blushing too much. "Which woman?" he said, nonchalant.

Jake sauntered over and punched him in the shoulder. "That lady with the rank stripes from _Reina_. Damn, cuz, she was like 10 years older than you!"

There was a bark of laughter from the ramp, where Com 1, Mark Peterson, was waiting for them. Jonna was already there, grinning.

"What can I say?" asked Jurgen. "She said she was 25, man. I like women who can take care of themselves, OK?"

"Good for you!" called Jonna. "Come on, give Kammy and Jett your shopping and baggage, we got to go."

"She's right," said Mark. "We have an appointment."

They all gave their packages and bags to the youngsters who were waiting to be useful. The kids looked wistfully at the bright bundles, and Jurgen twitched one of his bags open and passed them each a wrapped sweet, "Fair's fair," he said, and gave them back smile for smile.

Mark herded the three of down the dock past six stations, bright with lights or dim and sealed, and stopped at the one labeled _Victoria_. No merchanters lounged there waiting for their cousins to come back from raucous liberty: instead, blue-uniformed guards with protective vests and helmets stood at attention, hand guns holstered on hips beside metal batons. Jurgen had picked up enough gossip to know that Linn had been right: cruiser _Victoria_ , Earth Company Fleet, on a training and recruitment mission.

Mark pulled out his credentials and showed them to one of the guards. The man saluted and spoke into a comm link attached to the shoulder of his armored vest. After a moment, a woman in a crisp blue suit came down the ramp. She was perhaps as old as Jurgen's mother, with tawny skin and tilted eyes like Linn's. "Mark Peterson, Com 1, and the _Polly d'Or_ candidates, correct?" she said, pulling out a handheld tablet.

"Yes, Ms. ... ?"

"Saito," she said. "Una Saito, Com 3." She gestured at the senior juniors: "Jakob Peterson, Jonna Peterson, Jurgen Graff, yes?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Jake, and Jonna and Jurgen echoed him. Saito's fingertips danced across her tablet before she stowed it again and beckoned them up the ramp. "Come ahead. Welcome aboard."

"Thank you," said Mark, and they all followed her up.

Inside _Victoria_ , everything was shiny, sleek, and still new-looking: steel, chrome, tough white plastics and ceramics. They stopped briefly at a credentialing station, where they were all issued visitor passes. and then continued on to a good-sized meeting room, with a large wall display showing the ship's insignia, its launch date, and the name of the captain: Yunus Keu. Below it was a speaker's podium in synth wood and chairs facing it in rows. A coffee station, with pastries, occupied one end of the room. "Help yourselves. Sanitary accommodation behind that door on the left. Briefing in 15 minutes," said Saito, and left them.

"Well," said Mark, then shrugged and headed for the coffee.

After a few minutes, Saito escorted in another group: two grey-headed seniors and three young people of roughly the same age as the _Polly d'Or_ senior juniors. Saito introduced them: "Ms. Gredis Saenz, Nav 2 of _La Reina Estrellada_ , with candidates Lorenzo and Dolores. Mr. Benjamin Khoza, Engineering 1 of _Manthatisi_ , with candidate Simiyu."

"Mark Peterson, Com 1, _Polly d'Or_ , with Jakob, Jonna, and Jurgen," responded their own senior. He waved them over to the refreshments, where the three of them made small talk over the coffee. The juniors all looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, until the young woman from _Reina_ broke the ice with a warm grin. 

"You can call me Loli. I've been studying for Nav. My cousin Renzo here wants Helm or maybe Armaments." Her white teeth were bright in her broad, tawny face.

"Big mouth Lo," muttered Lorenzo. He was much taller than his cousin and lanky. "Lorenzo Saenz. Helm or Armaments, like my loud cousin says."

The last youth chuckled. He was as tall as Jake, with prominent cheekbones, deep ochre-brown skin, and close clipped wiry hair like Zainab's. "Simiyu Khoza, but everybody calls me Sim. Engineering for me."

Jurgen smiled, liking the look of them despite Lorenzo's prickly response. "Saenz, huh? I think I met one of your cousins last night. Mayra?"

"Oh yeah!" Loli's dark eyes sparkled with fun. "At breakfast, she said she had a hot date last night!"

Lorenzo crossed his arms and frowned fiercely at Jurgen. Loli punched his shoulder, and Sim grinned: "No need to get your briefs in a twist, man. Isn't that the game we all play on station leave?"

Jurgen saw Jake and Jonna out of the corners of his eyes, moving up to stand by him. "Your cousin Mayra has good taste," said Jonna, her voice bright and sociable.

Lorenzo glared at him for another few seconds, then abruptly relaxed and made a gesture as though he were waving away smoke. "Well, she wouldn't want me in her business anyway. She's been posted for years, she knows her mind and can take care of herself."

"That's a lot of what I liked about her," said Jurgen. 

"Sensible man," said Sim.

Saito came back into the room then, followed by a stocky, grey-haired man with heavy brows that emphasized his intense expression. He was wearing somber, expensive-looking civilian clothing, not unlike a senior station official. "Let's get started," said Saito, and they all took their seats. "This is Andrey Murad, a senior counsel of Earth Company."

"Thank you, Ms. Saito," said Murad. He had a deep, pleasant voice, "Good morning, gentlemen, ladies. I understand that your own captains and seniors have already been informing you of the situation with Union and how it affects merchanter commerce … ."

The screen presented vid and images in support of the talk. Much of the briefing was not new information to Jurgen, until Murad began to describe and show clandestine vid of Union's recent ship-building efforts. Jurgen leaned forward, elbows on knees. _We're all in trouble, aren't we?_

"But Earth Company is moving to counter these efforts," said Murad. "We have this ship, and her sister _Carina_. And we are well started on a much larger effort, which we expect to exceed Union's: a fleet of FTL warships to defend Earth, her stations, and her shipping. Union is growing their future pilots, their armscomp experts, and more in their labs. To counter them, we need recruits. And the merchanter fleets of Earth space are a valuable resource. _You_ are ready, today, to join us in this effort, while Union will need 18 years or more to bring its first personnel to the fight."

Jurgen felt everyone around him being drawn into the story Murad was presenting. Even the grey-haired seniors were completely focused on the man's words. Murad looked up, past them all: "Welcome, Captain Keu."

A slim, elegant man in an impeccable Fleet uniform had come into the room unnoticed. Murad surrendered the podium to him and stood aside, Captain Keu advanced to take the podiium and leaned forward, his dark eyes on them. His smooth face was serious. "You have heard the situation. We are ready, here and now, to test your aptitudes and interview you to become trainees in this program. I must warn you: this may well be forever, for all intents and purposes. We will be heading back to Earth after this, and we fully expect this situation will become a war. Who knows whether the ships to which you are assigned will cross the paths of the ships of your birth in the time to come."

His dark gaze searched the faces of those before him methodically. Then he nodded, and said "Speak with your seniors now, Those who wish to undergo our screening will stay here the rest of the day. Anyone who has doubts may leave with the seniors, The rest of you will be interviewed, have lunch with our crew, and undergo aptitude testing. Your seniors may collect you at 18:00. You will spend the night on your own ships, and in the morning, we will notify you of your status."

Loli raised her hand. Keu nodded at her. "Ms Saenz."

"When does _Victoria_ leave port?"

Captain Keu smiled, silk smooth and engaging. "Tomorrow at 10:00."

There was a collective intake of breath. _Polly d'Or_ was departing at 11:00; likely the other ships were leaving soon as well. Loli hunched her shoulders and said, "Yes sir!"

Keu nodded genially. "We will leave you to discuss for half an hour. Mr. Murad, Ms. Saito, with me, please."

They left the room, and the door slid shut behind them.

A burst of chatter went up, and all the juniors sought their seniors. Jurgen, Jonna, and Jake surrounded Mark. "Sir," said Jonna, "Do you think we ought to?"

Mark sighed. "Jonna, this has to be your decision. It's also not quite the same choice for you as it is for Jake and Jurgen. We are a small ship, and we don't have all that many opportunities in Helm. But we can always use good maintenance personnel."

"But I want to do it," said Jonna, after a moment. "I want to help. Union is a serious danger."

"Same here," said Jurgen.

Jake seemed to be trying to dig through the burn deck carpet with the toe of one shiny boot. "Yeah," he said at last. "I'm in."

"I'm proud of you," said Mark. "However things turn out with this, you're credit to the _Polly_ and the Petersons."

And that was the thing, Jurgen reflected. They really did think of him as a Peterson. _What will I be by this time tomorrow?_

It looked like the other three had made the same decision, to judge from the reactions of the seniors. Ms. Saenz was a little red around the nose and eyes, and Mr, Khoza kept blinking and grimacing. Ms. Saito came back on the dot, trailed by five crew members in Fleet blue working coveralls, and gave the room a very thorough looking over.

"What's the decision, then?" she said.

"We're in." said Loli and Lorenzo, in one breath,

"Same," said Jake, and Jonna and Jurgen nodded.

"And me," said Sim, his voice firm.

"Excellent," said Ms. Saito. "Senior officers, please return to collect your young people at 18:00. Candidates, your escorts here will take you to your next station,"

Mark kissed Jonna on the cheek, ruffled Jake's hair, and squeezed Jurgen's shoulder. "Wishing you the best," he said and followed Ms. Saito and the other seniors out.

The crew escorts each corralled one of the juniors, "Welcome, Mr. Graff," said the young woman in Fleet coveralls who attached herself to him. "I am Kavya Bhat, posted Helm 8 six weeks ago. I will be taking you about the ship. Come." She turned, giving Jurgen a view of blue-black hair neatly braided down the back of her head and then tucked under, and led the way out into the corridor. He hurried after her, following her down a long corridor and into a lift.

"Thanks for taking me around," Jurgen said, as she punched a button and the door hissed shut . 

"No problem at all," she said. "It was not so long ago that I was in your current position, setting foot onto this ship for the first time. You will be heading straight into Aptitude Testing. I think this is the best time slot to have that activity."

"How come?"

"You would not want to do this testing right after lunch," she said. The lift door opened on a far more utilitarian-looking corridor, and she beckoned him out and to the left. "Mr. Saenz has drawn that slot, poor fellow."

The passageway ended in double doors. Bhat pulled open one leaf and ushered him through. "This is Mr. Graff," she said. "He is yours now, Irfan."

A man with a name tag reading _Tech Rahim I._ took him to a changing room and had him strip to his briefs, then patched him throughly with sensors. He got some loose pale yellow coveralls to wear over them. The far door opened on a room with a control panel and a large observation window, and beyond that was what looked just like a bridge station, rather more complex than _Polly d'Or_ 's.

"Now, that is a helm station simulator," said Rahim. "The access hatch is right there, Your entry macro code is on that piece of tape on the console. You will find most of the controls familiar. Don't concern yourself with the others, although nothing terrible will happen should you accidentally engage them. You will take the station, sign on, and be presented with a number of scenarios. I will monitor you and your reactions from here. The first exercise starts now."

A loudspeaker suddenly blared "Bridge staff, take your stations. We have 10 minutes to the jump point. I repeat, 10 minutes to jump."

Jurgen froze, then ran for the hatch, it was unlocked, He opened it, stepped through, and latched it carefully behind him but left it unlocked. He leapt for the the station chair and snapped his safety restraints, then checked for jump medications. They were there, clipped exactly where he'd expect to find them. He wondered what was actually in the hypos, but dismissed that problem and reached for the headset. There was the entry code: he spoke it into his mic. The board came alive, and so did a screen above, showing a view of an unfamiliar system. He looked over for the nav information: that screen was also live, and presenting the route data he needed.

He felt his nerves calm: he could do this. Hidden speakers gave him ops chat from the other bridge stations, and he maneuvered the imaginary ship toward the jump point as hidden pickups apparently took in his vocal responses.

A siren sounded, and he almost lost track of where they were. Two minutes from jump .... "Incoming!" trumpeted the loudspeaker. "Take evasive action!" And suddenly things went from normal to a nightmare of an arcade sim. Nav was showing him two moving objects, not the aimless tumble of lane junk or asteroids, but some kind of ships homing in on his. Heart thumping, he steered the simulator between them, hoping he could get through the gap to the jump point. The virtual ship underwent a reorientation, a physical shift in position that made his head swim. "Clear, clear!" said the loudspeaker. "Clear for jump!"

He reached for the drugs packet, and then a soft, penetrating chime sounded, "Exercise One over," Rahim's voice said. "Prepare for the next exercise ... ."

He was limp and covered with sweat when Rahim told him the testing was over. There was a shower off the changing room, and he cleaned up and changed back into his own coveralls. "Ready for lunch?" asked Bhat as he came out, and he realized he was ravenous.

He met the other candidates and his cousins in the ship's mess. They scanned their visitor passes at the start of the cafeteria line, took trays, and were handed their food already plated up, although Jurgen noticed that the Fleet crew were picking and choosing their own. "Sorry that the meals are pretty basic for you today," said one of the other guides, whose name tag read _Pvt. Werner R._ As Mr. Graff can probably tell you, we need your guts to be calm."

"Wow," said Loli. "What happened, Jurgen?" 

Jurgen looked over at Bhat, who raised her eyebrows at him expectantly and gave her head a small shake. "You'll find out," he said, making his voice as dark as possible.

"Of course, your experiences will vary according to your assignment preferences," said Werner. "Mr. Peterson and Ms. and Mr. Saenz will be using the same facility that Mr. Graff experienced. Ms. Peterson and Mr. Khoza will be using other testing sites."

The food was fine, if rather bland: broiled fish, pasta, and plain vegetables, with a simple fruit dessert. Jurgen noticed that although he and his cousins had identical meals, the candidates from the other ships had something different. He guessed they had all been given familiar foods to help prevent unexpected reactions.

After lunch, he had sessions with interviewers and a battery of educational exams. One interviewer seemed to be a psych of some sort, but the other sounded more like a legal expert. This woman, Lt. Arvel C., gave him a number of scenarios involving imaginary crew mates who had disagreements with him or each other, or who asked him to become involved in activities that might be against regulations or even illegal. She asked him not only what he would do, but to give her explanations for his choices. Jurgen became very uncomfortable, wondering whether he was making the right judgments. He was relieved when Lt. Arvel smiled and said, "That's all, Mr. Graff." She reached across her desk to shake his hand and got up to walk him to the door. "Don't look so worried," she said. "Many of these problems don't have clearcut answers."

Bhat was waiting to walk him back to the security desk, where he turned in his pass. His cousins and Mark were waiting for him outside the ship. Apparently he had missed the other candidates. He felt a little sad; he would have liked to talk to them about their experiences. "Goodbye, Mr. Graff," said Bhat. "Perhaps we will see each other tomorrow."

They were all tired and quiet walking back to the _Polly d'Or_. When they got aboard, it seemed that news of what was happening was all over: they'd had a briefing, Iris said. Everyone was full of questions except Linn , who was silent and clingy. Jurgen was relieved when it was time to go to bed.

He was awakened at 06:00. Breakfast was full of Petersons who were prepping the ship for departure, and the three candidates took a table in one corner and tried to pretend they were invisible. At 07:00, the wall speaker announced that Jurgen and Jonna were wanted on the bridge, and Jakob II in the captain's cabin.

When the two of them came onto the bridge, Jes closed the hatch behind them, and everyone on station broke out into applause. "We're so proud of you," said Vita. "You're going to do just fine on _Victoria._ "

Everyone was asking them questions, and Jurgen and Jonna were doing their best to answer when the hatch opened again, and the Old Lady came in. "Young ma'am and young sir, you have an 09:00 call at your new assignments," said Brit Peterson. "Hop to it!"

They ran back to their quarters to find that the younger cousins had already arrived with satchels and clean laundry. The only thing odd was that they were taking no _Polly d'Or_ coveralls but the ones they were wearing, because they'd be issued uniforms. Jurgen crammed the corners of his bags with keepsakes and such, worrying that somehow he would forget something important. Then Jake appeared in the doorway. "You all clear out for a minute, Need to talk to Jurg before he leaves."

Jurgen scrambled to his feet. "Wish they'd picked you, too," he said.

"Don't make me laugh," said Jake. "Clear out all the Helm candidates? But now I'm Helm 4 for sure."

"Well, yeah."

"Another thing. They sent our evaluations over, and the Old Lady looked at them. She told me about some of it just now. Said our technical scores and aptitudes were just about even, but you had people skills I didn't. They're looking for all kinds of skills, because these ships have a lot more stations, including stations we don't have on _Polly_ , and some of them take other skills on top of the ones we need here. And that I should remember that, because if I ever become the Old Man, I'll need to know how to make those kinds of judgments about people. So I'm good." Jake rested his hands on Jurgen's shoulders and leaned forward to bump their heads together gently. "You take care, cuz. You're always part of my crew, you hear?"

Jurgen felt prickly heat in his eyes and nose. "Thanks, cuz." Then all the rest of the cousins poured in again to say goodbye. Only Linn was missing.

At 08:30, Mark appeared to bring them across the docks. As they approached the main hatchway, Marlis appeared to hug Jurgen and gave him a kiss. "So proud of you, son," she murmured. "Be careful."

And then Linn hit him like a missile. "Don't go, don't go! Jurgen, no!" She grabbed him with cold hands. Her eyes were streaming and her nose was red. Jurgen dropped his bags and wrapped his arms around her. "Linn, don't," he said.

Vita appeared behind her. "I'm sorry, Jurgen. She's been hiding in my cabin all morning, refusing to help you guys pack, and then she disappeared. Linn, don't be like this. Jurgen's going to get to be a pilot, like he's always wanted. You don't want him to remember you like this, crying your head off. do you?" "

"I don't care," the girl whimpered.

"Linn," Jurgen said, and then whispered in her ear: "I won't remember you like this. I have that picture of you with the Downers at the museum. That's how I'll remember you, my smart cousin who knows things about biology and other stuff. I'll never forget you."

"But ... I won't ever see you again. Zainab never saw her brother again."

"We don't know. We just have wait and see. Sometimes people do see their shipmates again. Don't wish your life away waiting for me, Linn."

"Jurgen," said Mark. "We have to go. Time is running. _Victoria_ is in count."

"Promise me, Linn. Don't forget me, but don't let waiting for me slow you down. Promise?"

"I promise," she said, at last.

Jurgen have her a last hug and picked up his bags again. He and Jonna followed Mark across the docks. He turned back once, just before the curve of the ring hid the _Polly d'Or_. Linn was a small figure at the foot of the ramp, bracketed by Marlis and Vita. He waved, and saw them wave back.

Then he turned and stepped into his future.

**Author's Note:**

> According to one chronology I found, Musa ( _Rimrunners_ ) was also born on _Gloriana_.


End file.
